Written by: Blackie Skulless
Indianapolis’s Cloud Of Souls is a fun project due to how much it changed forms during its short run. Mostly, it acted as a side solo gig for Chris Latta, frontman of other Indianapolis acts including the now disbanded Spirit Division and Lavaborne, among others. Running in the background of several different projects likely contributed to the strange evolution, with the first two records falling under the name Christopher Steve prior to the arriving at Cloud Of Souls in 2022. Only two albums surfaced in this era, A Fate Decided in 2023 and A Constant State Of Flux just last year. This style was always a bit tough for me to get behind, however the former release really piqued my interest, so this is what we’re going to cover. Looking at the project's dark acoustic roots will show why it seems bizarre to see where the project went. Maintaining that grey and somber attitude that the acoustic era saw, the murky feeling simply morphed into something far heavier, even touching blackened territory. At its roots, this is doom metal with a quality degraded to add an almost static effect, feeling like a demo due to the noisy haze. Yet, I would struggle to call this stonery or droney despite the mastermind’s background. Latta’s signature baritone howls cover the cleaner vocal sections, but again, there’s an almost haunting aura that gives things a far more dead feeling than the lively nature of his other projects.
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In a continuing attempt to cover more music that would all-too-oft slip through the very large cracks, we slumbering scribes are making an effort to publish short reviews at a greater frequency, thereby shining our very small spotlight on more cool shit. Without further ado: even more Negative Bliss.
Written by: The Administrator
The best cover I've heard of Chris Isaak's oft-covered "Wicked Game" was performed by a country-tinged singer-songwriter at my local park's summer concert series. I was utterly engrossed by her aching tone. The atmosphere was chaotic as only a park at a family-friendly event can be. The rendition was imperfectly perfect, imbued with a feel-it-in-your-bones permeation that exists solely in a live environment. It was a once in a lifetime experience, really. The recorded version isn't nearly as potent. With that said: the second best cover I've heard of Chris Isaak's oft-covered "Wicked Game" is performed by perennial Sleeping Village favorites Negative Bliss. As made immediately evident, this is a particularly gloomy and doomed-out take on the original. It embraces sizable breadth and a somber harshness that affords the track an unexpected emotional core.
Welcome to another edition of DEMO(LITION) DERBY, a regrettably infrequent column dedicated solely to demos. Existing for the sole purpose of bolstering our underground cred since uhhh 2024! If you like reading about demos, check out a previous review here.
Written by: The Administrator
It's been a long while since we've hosted a good ol' demo(lition) derby 'round these parts, and not for lack of material. However, rather than covering any of the delectable morsels currently circling the scummy surface of the promo pit, I felt moved to revisit something sludgy from the primordial days. Back in 2018, when ye olde Sleeping Village existed as a mere Instagram page, I briefly reviewed Slother's first and only project to date. Originally entitled Demo 2018, this 19-minute 4-track release was renamed to MMXVIII a few months later when From The Urn picked it up for a cassette release. The album cover aesthetic is a pretty serviceable hook, but should you require a succinctly accurate descriptor in written form, Quebec City's Slother delineates their sound thusly: “damp riffs.” For a batch of songs evidently discovered in the depths of the St. Lawrence and thrust into mildew’d service, this seems pretty damn accurate. Sopping aesthetic notwithstanding, Slother deals in an obtusely visceral blend of slasher sludge and hefty doom. The riffs are colossal and plodding and violent, often serving as an impenetrable sonic shroud. In terms of tone, the project is defined by an excess of thick fuzz, but while some bands utilize fuzz to create a warm and enveloping environment, Slother revels in grimy suffocation. An occasional lead worms its way through the fray, but the heft of the rhythm is the primary draw here. And, if all this ain’t enough to wet your whistle, the leisurely harsh vocals should seal the deal. These roars and bellows on display, courtesy of one "Pick," are languorously massive. I'm also a fan of the rare inclusion of a vocal sample--"Skrimshaw," for example, fires off with Bush's confident assertion that "the human being and fish can coexist peacefully." While they do appear to be active, judging from some minor activity on social media, I'm sad that Slother haven't released anything since this very promising demo. Or perhaps they are merely taking their sweet time? A slothful approach to songcraft feels apropos, but in the meantime, I yearn for more. Slother - Demo 2018/MMXVIII was self-released May 17th, 2025, and Sept. 2nd, 2018 on CS via From the Urn. Find it here 
Written by: Blackie Skulless
A longer record that uses an extremely clean atmosphere, described as “gothic” doom metal; talk about a one way ticket for me to hate something. Except, it turns out that there are exceptions to even this rule. The Canadian outfit Tribunal seems to be one of those, considering their second record titled In Penitence And Ruin managed to worm its way into my ear for more than one visit. Perhaps the intriguing album artwork made me more interested in lending my attention. If my little metaphor didn’t make this clear, Tribunal’s style takes some growing. At first glance, it’s built on the doom template that leans towards the epic end, dropping extremely dense guitar passages that draw out their momentum, topped by powerful vocals, all cleaned up for maximum clarity. The “gothic” elements arrive in the form of piano and string passages, rather than synths, and I might say that this is part of what sold me. Hell, maybe an electric keyboard is used for all of that, but the execution is convincing enough to not matter. They’re ultimately a background trait that add spice to an otherwise typical dish, but this choice alone is enough to invoke interest. Breaks like the middle of “Angel Of Mercy” are where they thrive the most, borrowing the forefront every now and then. 
Written by: Blackie Skulless
The Norwegian extreme metal act Nithe took formation a few years ago, but never saw themselves with label representation until their third outing appearing on Caligari Records, my favorite tape slingers. Their catalog already consists of a demo and an EP, making Funeral Death their third outing. The truth is, I think all three of them could have been labeled either or. The band is rather tough to label other than somewhere within the black and death realm, perhaps with a thrashy attitude. Much of this is due to the fact that the coarse and mean production with such attitude in presentation somewhat dances all over the place, but those very things help keep it together. Consisting of four songs, we start on a blistering note with “Chains Of The Abyss,” loaded with blast beats and harsh shrieks before breaking into a punkier stomp. “Primordial Ooze (Mother Of Woe)” follows up with a thrash driven approach, not only sneaking some clear leads into the main riffage, but even allowing some gang chants in the chorus. It’s rather unorthodox amidst the ugly and unforgiving atmosphere, especially with the tremolos worked in, but I can’t complain (especially with that slow bass bridge connecting everything). 
Written by: The Administrator
Here's an established fact: I like WARPSTORMER. Back in 2022, their debut EP Here Comes Hell made quite a mark--as I said back then, said EP "unleashes riffs with the confidence of a seasoned act and the haste of a band excited to parade their entire arsenal in a single 20 minutes span." Needless to say, the promise of a full length was exciting. Their self-titled debut LP came out last November, and, in classic fashion, it's taken me a very long time to actually write about it. Apologies for tardiness, etc. etc. WARPSTORMER plays a potent blend of stoner doom and thrash, a combination that feels simultaneously vigorous and sludgy. While the doomier stoner elements do frequently take center stage--the thrash is often more apparent in the roaring bombast than shredding speed per se--this album is notably forceful. WARPSTORMER feel like the bastard lovechild of High on Fire, The Sword, five gallons of diesel, and some high-octane guzzoline. And, while big punishing riffs often lead the charge, there are enough progressive and (dare I say?) cosmically inclined psych moments to lend the songwriting an expansive quality. With the exception of some very nice cleans that shine in the back half, the vocal delivery, which is raspy and striking in equal measure, fondly reminds me of the punchiness of Black Royal. While never unhinged, very little here feels overly restrained. WARPSTORMER is a powerful band, and isn't afraid to show it. 
Written by: The Administrator
When we slumbering scribes dip our hands cautiously into the churning murk of the promo pit, the chances of encountering something completely new (or even marginally inventive) are quite slim. Indeed, the vast majority of what we listen to represents a certain well-founded adherence to convention. That's not a bad thing--there's a reason OSDM revivalism has enjoyed a series of banner years. And besides, there's an obvious limit to the number of viable combinations of sounds and aesthetics. Genre stew can get a tad unlistenable without a healthy dose of intention and some impeccable execution. Anyways. Encountering a specimen lurking in the promo pit that can be qualified as "wholly unique" is exciting, to say the least. It was fresh on the ears. And this is why Buzzard's debut album Doom Folk was such a welcome presence in my listening rotation. Doom Folk was--and still is--truly a gem. Representing a rough 'n' raw amalgamation of Americana, folk, and doom, the component parts were familiar, but the end result felt gloriously innovative. While clearly informed by a variety of influences, Buzzard gave voice to the dour common ground lurking between the social commentary and narrative acumen of Bob Dylan, the powerful heft of Sabbath, the weirdness of Lovecraft, and the homey eeriness of a small-town ghost story. Doom Folk felt like the grizzled men who played swampy folk at the campfire after the barn dances of my youth had found inspiration in the gloomy gravitas of the pioneers of metal. And beyond mere originality, Buzzard was riddled with the kind of clarity of songcraft that repeatedly raised the question: how in the absolute fuck had these songs not already been written?
In a continuing attempt to cover more music that would all-too-oft slip through the very large cracks, we slumbering scribes are making an effort to publish short reviews at a greater frequency, thereby shining our very small spotlight on more cool shit. Without further ado, here's a cool post-sludge/doom single.
Written by: The Administrator
Sometimes, dear readers, the promo pit delivers. Whilst searching to satiate a craving for darkly menacing music, I randomly listened to this new single from Poland's Optical Sun...and loved it so much I immediately took their debut album for a few spins. Optical Sun play a murky brand of post-sludge interspersed with notably intense vocals and the liberal application of samples from old Polish movies. In service of oppressive doom and gloom, they also utilize a double-bass technique. As such, "Mój Bóg nie Umarł" is ominous and delightfully hefty, a clear result of that extra emphasis in the bass department. The film samples, for which I admittedly lack any frame of reference, sound very well incorporated, and overall add another layer of intensity. Promo indicates that the band borrows excerpts from the film Diabeł directed by Andrzej Zulawski, from the TV series Przyłbice i Kaptury, directed by Marek Piestrak, and Zbigniew Jerzyna's radio drama Gasnące kolory. There's one part where the speaker sounds on verge of hyperventilation--no clue what they are saying, but it sounds like a less-than-comfortable situation, to be sure. The lurching laughter is creepy too. Samples aside, the vocals are sludgy and throaty and raw in a way that really tickles my fancy--the chanting on the back end, for example, is super forceful and cuts through the instrumentation with an eerie edge. "Mój Bóg nie Umarł" serves as the first single from Optical Sun's forthcoming sophomore album. The track does end very abruptly, which makes me wonder if the album flows from track to track in a seamless fashion. Time will tell! As far as typical rollouts go, it's pretty damn early--Diabeł is scheduled for release on Sept. 11th, so can only assume we'll see more singles drop between now and then. I'll be keeping an eye/ear out. Listen to "Mój Bóg nie Umarł" below and find it on Bandcamp here! 
Written by: The Administrator
Sometimes, the album cover tells you all you really need to know. And if we're being honest, "sometimes" becomes "frequently" when we're dealing with the comfortably miasmic realm of stoner doom aesthetics. So. Prior to hitting play, there was no doubt in my mind what War On Drugs by Mexican duo High Grind was going to sound like. Smog-thick riffs. Phlegmy vocals. A little swirling psychedelia. It was frankly quite inevitable that I would enjoy the soundtrack accompanying this weed demon bacta tank imagery. I'm pleased to report that I do very much enjoy War On Drugs. It does absolutely nothing new, but when it comes to stoner doom, I'm generally quite happy with a band that sticks to the bulletproof established formula. Give me mammothian riffs that lurch about like--to quote Rolling Stone's 1972 review of Black Sabbath's Vol. 4--a "giant prehistoric plant learning how to walk." Give me indistinguishable lyrics via throaty howls wrenched from the sludge. Give me stupored groove and the warm embrace of fuzz. Honestly, every track here is a good example of what High Grind offer, but check out the embedded "La Guerra Contra las Drogas" below for some particularly downtrodden riffage. Written by: The Administrator  A music video premiere is a fairly infrequent affair at ye olde Sleeping Village, but not quite infrequent enough to consider "rare." Perhaps "uncommon" would be a better measure. In any case, it's been a while since we ran one of these, and the theater required significant sprucing up before we felt comfortable allowing you fine folks inside. With the cobwebs and dust bunnies banished, then, the show is ready to begin. We'll dim the lights. Make yourself comfortable.
Today's feature presentation comes to us from Dublin, Ireland's Fós. The forthcoming Níl mo chroí in aon rud, out Jan. 27th, demonstrates a haunting blend of traditional Irish folk singing with the sheer droning heft of doom and sludge. It's a fusion that feels as natural as it is engaging, and "Bádaí na Scadán" serves as a perfect showcase of Fós's uniquely eerie and captivating aesthetic. Give "Bádaí na Scadán" a listen (and a watch!) below, and we'll meet you on the other side. |
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